Freedom

 

Arminius craved freedom,
Emerson too as do I –
Though not from Susan: her
Medication, her need for doctors
And tests nor from the
Passage of time glad to
Be past those youthful

Muddles made of relationships
When I wasn’t willing to
Listen to older minds nor even
Simple sense – but freedom to
Think through impediments and
Past baffles to whatever I chose;
Or have I been a dupe of fate

Choosing the tropes that
Appeared unbidden in conformance
To my genetic disposition?
I looked for a trope just now and found
A hole in a curtain. Even so, I’m on
The upper floor.  Who lacking my
Confession would know it’s there?

I need something larger to yawn
Backward throughout the time of
Susan’s illness.  I can’t remember all
The steps I saw it take to waste her,
But I shrink back from the edge of
What I do, God giving me the
Freedom to see it and be afraid.